The Sidewalk Stiff

Sidewalk Stiff

She sits with an empty white coffee cup next to her. She looks up at the passers -by and she waits. She waits 1, 2, 3, sometimes 4 or more hours. The street is noisy and crowded. She keeps waiting, sometimes looking up, sometimes making believe she is reading the free morning paper. None of this matter she would say if she could; what she is doing is an eccentric person’s hobby. She doesn’t need the money that she is not getting. There are no results; she came to the site early for nothing. She attempts to get up from her milk crate. Her hand holds on to the car by the curb. Her legs feel stiff. One movement forward and another and then another movement to the corner—she does this slowly. The light changes. It is just in time; now she can get herself feel normal. She is who she once was.